


Doodles Before Dinner

by PlagueDoctor31



Category: Evil Dead - All Media Types, Re-Animator (Movies)
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Mild Language, and a few undead things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-13 04:58:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15356769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlagueDoctor31/pseuds/PlagueDoctor31
Summary: Herbert loses his latest experiment and Ash is making dinner





	Doodles Before Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> Finally! I finally found some time between work to finish this fic off! I hope you guys have a fun time reading it!  
> And a huge THANK YOU to my friend Vivaldi who gave me the idea for this piece. I couldn't have done it without you! ^_^

_Two hands… A needle… A spool of thread…_

Herbert looked over his collected materials as he prepared for his next experiment. For the past week he had been plagued by a lack of inspiration, but he knew full well that he couldn’t sit idle with his work for long. The opportunity to whisk away a full intact body will come again, but for now he was limited to the smaller pieces he could smuggle out of the Pathology Department. It wasn’t that he found enjoyment in making his little doodles; it’s just that he wished that one day he could return to the scale of something like the experiment he lovingly nicknamed “The Bride”. Out of all his experiments, she was up there with Dr. Hill as his one of his greatest accomplishments when it came to re-animation. However, unlike Hill he was actually glad to be proud of that accomplishment. At least she didn’t try to murder him. As he threaded the string through the needle, Herbert reflected back on her beautiful intricacies with a small smile, the weeks of work and months of planning that made her a reality…

Speaking of reality, something clattered onto the floor upstairs to drag Herbert back to the present. Herbert stilled his hands and glared upwards at the ceiling, beginning to have second thoughts about letting his new housemate take responsibility over dinner. With a sigh, he carefully placed his project down and left his basement lab to investigate.

After climbing the stairs and rounding a few corners, Herbert looked upon the aftermath of the crash. A pot and colander rolled slowly on the ground while a man knelt on the floor, picking up the potatoes that were strewn around him, brushing back his dark hair with his hand, his metal prosthetic hand. Herbert’s frown deepened, and he cleared his throat to grab the other’s attention.

“Can you handle that, Ashley?” Herbert raised an eyebrow, the skepticism plain in his voice.

The man looked up with furrowed brow, “Yes I can. You’re just bad at storing things that aren’t cadavers.”

Herbert bit back a laugh, starting to paint a clearer picture of what just happened. Opening the cabinet, pulling out the colander and watching the other pots and pans spill out and knocking over a pot full of potatoes while trying to prevent a huge mess. Herbert watched as the man on the floor huffed and continued picking up and throwing the vegetables back into the pot.

The man, who insists that Herbert just called him “Ash”, had demanded to cook tonight’s dinner for the two of them. What he was making, Herbert didn’t know. In fact, he was unsure if he wanted to know. Nonetheless, if this is how Ash was going to handle himself in the kitchen, Herbert might have to begrudgingly put aside his work for the evening.

He knelt down to pick up a potato for Ash, only to feel a tight grip around his wrist. Herbert winced and glared up at Ash to protest, but Ash spoke first.

“I said you weren’t going to cook tonight, and I meant it,” Ash declared, looking determined to uphold that promise. Herbert tried to pull his hand away, but it was no use since it was the metal hand that had grabbed him.

“I would hardly say that picking potatoes up off of the floor would count as cooking,” Herbert countered, focusing on trying to pull his hand free.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you just touching the food made it taste bad!” Ash shouted, tightening his grip as the two began some miniature tug of war with Herbert’s wrist.

“You weren’t complaining last night!” Herbert shot back.

“Because instant meals aren’t that hard to fuck up! How the hell did you manage to char that grilled cheese the night before!?”

The argument devolved into grunts and short petty protests of “Let go!” and “No!”. Determined to beat this, Herbert made use of his other hand, grabbing his captured hand and providing more leverage. Ever so slowly, he started to slip out, the metal hand scratching his wrist. Herbert seethed a bit in pain but tried not to let it get to him. At least he wasn’t bleeding for the most part.

Whether Herbert finally manage to wrench himself free or Ash decided to let go, Herbert wasn’t sure. All that he knew was that the grip suddenly disappeared, and his momentum caused him to fall over onto his back. Herbert let out an audible “Oof!” upon impact with the tile floor, still holding his newly freed hand in his other. He moved his head up to glare at Ash, who was still kneeling in front of him with a humorous grin.

“Are you done now, Doc?” Ash spoke as he began to laugh. Herbert could feel himself blushing with embarrassment for being in such a compromising position, and he knew that Ash could definitely see it as well. However, he surely wasn’t going to admit that he was, and quickly got up.

“I’m going back down to basement,” Herbert announced, straightening himself up and deliberately looking away from Ash. That only made Ash laugh again, and Herbert could see him standing back up as well.

“Well that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Ash grinned, reaching out and using his real hand to ruffle Herbert’s hair. The heat on Herbert’s face intensified, and he quickly took a step back to glare at Ash with a flustered fury. To his dismay, that didn’t make Ash stop smiling.

“Sorry, Herby, but it’s hard to take your glare seriously with those pouty lips of yours distracting me.”

The comment caught Herbert by surprise. His lips? Pouty? He couldn’t really tell if that was meant to be a compliment or an insult, and with that stupid grin on Ash’s face it was really hard to tell. He could feel his blush returning, and now Herbert just felt flustered instead of furious. Without a word, he turned on his heel and retreated back to the safety of his lab.

 

Herbert sat back in his seat with a relieved sigh, the damp cool air of the basement helping him refocus on the task at hand: the pair of hands and the threaded needle. He arranged the hands so that the wrists were facing each other, and he delicately picked up the needle.

The hands felt cold in his grip as he pushed the curved needle though the clammy skin, stitching the two hands together at the wrists. Herbert couldn’t help but be reminded of Ash’s prosthetic hand, but he noted of the different between the hard metal and the dead flesh. The scratches on his hand had turned a tad red, and Herbert knew that they would fade in a little while. It stung when it happened, but a small smile grew on Herbert’s lips from the ridiculousness of their squabble just minutes ago. How idiotic was Ash being when he got angry at Herbert merely trying to pick up a potato? However, Herbert had gotten angry as well. Perhaps they were both just being idiotic. Herbert frowned at the idea and flipped the hands over to continue sewing.

“It won’t happen again next time, I’ll be sure of that,” Herbert thought silently to himself while his frowned with determination. He pushed his mind towards other topics, pursing his lips as he pushed the needle through a touch patch of skin.

Lips… Herbert raised his free hand up to touch his mouth. Were they really pouty? He didn’t recall anyone ever describing his lips like that. Herbert had an acquaintance that definitely had what he would consider “pouty lips”, always looking like he was one loud noise away from a panic attack. Herbert wondered what happened to him. Last he heard, the man had left to pursue an internship with some scientist by the name of Pretorius, and Herbert didn’t bother with following up on him since by then his work had gone into full swing. If Herbert ever saw him again, he wondered what Ash would think of that man’s lips. Would he still call Herbert’s pouty?

And what about Ash’s lips? Herbert paused his sewing to envision them. He never paid too much attention to Ash’s mouth and focused on other, more important, things such as his messy hair, his dark brown eyes, his wet muscles when he steps out of the bathroom after taking a shower because he forgot to grab clothes to change into…

Herbert shook his head. What the hell was he thinking? Yes, perhaps he’s caught himself staring at Ash on a number of occasions, but he was just getting distracted.

_Just like how Dan kept getting distracted by Meg and Francesca?_

Herbert cursed under his breath at himself, snatching the surgical needle back up to finish up the last of the sewing. He was not getting distracted by Ash. He was not. He was simply… appreciating the man’s physique. No harm in that. Herbert is a doctor after all, so there was nothing wrong in admiring someone’s body. He tied off the stitches with a satisfied nod.

_But imagine that body you admire being right next to you. That cold metal hand gently touching those pouty lips of yours as he goes in for a-_

Herbert slammed the needle down hard on the table, gritting his teeth with frustration at the intrusive thoughts. So what if that image had popped up in his head for the past few days? So what if Herbert, dare he say, is starting to grow fond of Ash? It’s not like Ash felt the same way. He recalled Ash mentioning a woman named Linda and someone else by the name of Sheila. There was no way he would have feelings for Herbert. Herbert cursed at himself again, heat rising in his cheeks.

Herbert reached over and pulled a bin and a beaker over to him. He stared at the green glow of the reagent inside, the elixir calming his restless thoughts. It has become a constant in his life, not that he really minded since it was his life’s work. No matter who comes and goes, the reagent will always remain. A reassured smile bloomed on his lips as he set the beaker down next to the bin. He scooped up his newest creation, gently placing it down into the container in a way similar to how a mother with lay their baby in a cradle. Herbert lingered briefly to admire his handiwork. One could be forgiven to think the creature was a crab at first glance, and Herbert was inclined to agree. His only regret was that he didn’t have any intact eyes on hand to add to it.

“Not much I can do about that now,” He conceded silently as he picked up the dropper that rested nearby to take some reagent out of its container. Sticking out his tongue in concentration, Herbert steadily squeezed out the contents along the seam of the two hands, quickly flipping them over to get the underside as well.

When the reagent was completely applied, Herbert set his tools and beaker aside and stepped back to observe the reaction. Like most subjects, there was a delay as the reagent took effect. However, Herbert caught the ever-so-slight twitch in the thing’s pinky finger. He glanced down at his watch. Three seconds. Herbert was pleased to see the quick effect his work had on the smaller subjects, and he only hoped that one day the delay will be that quick for the human cadavers as well.

A thought flashed through his mind, a reminder. His notebook! He forgot his notebook! Herbert made a noise of frustration and stepped away in search of it. He looked around at other work tables, which were both organized and cluttered at the same time. Herbert looked past the jars of chemicals and various bits and pieces in search of any of his notebooks. There was a shuffling noise behind him, and he resorted to shoving the other materials to the side. He has more than one notebook, why was it taking so long to find one?

Triumph bloomed in Herbert’s chest as soon as he spotted the corner of one of his leather-bound journals poking out from underneath one of his medical textbooks. He swiped it up, briefly holding it up in the air like some kind of trophy, and quickly turning back to observe the contents of the bin while fishing out a pen from his pocket.

“Movement began at approximately 3 seconds after applying the reagent…” He muttered to himself as he scribbled in his notes. He glanced up to see what the hands were doing now, only to see an empty bin before him. Shock and confusion bombarded Herbert’s mind, and he whipped his head around in search of any sign of the creature. There was no such luck on the table. He tossed his pen and notebook down to quickly duck under and search the floor. Letting his dignity go for a moment, he crawled underneath the worktable and scanned the room for this perspective. _Not by the autopsy table, or the cabinets, or the fridge, or by the open door, or by the- Oh._

Herbert froze, his eyes widening with dread as the realization dawned on him. Scrambling out from under the table, Herbert couldn’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu at the scenario.

“Perhaps a police officer will conveniently show up on my doorstep again,” Herbert mused quietly before refocusing on his mission. He kept his eyes on the ground, scanning the floor as he rushed out of the lab and back up the stairs.

 

He could still hear Ash milling about in the kitchen the moment he reached the top of the stairs. Herbert made a beeline for the sitting room, practically ripping the cushions off the chairs and sofa to search every nook and cranny of the room. He paused briefly too look back towards the kitchen. The longer he could keep Ash away from his search the better, as the last thing Herbert wanted to do was clean up the stain of his experiment off of the floor. Ash may be good at dispatching larger monstrosities, but there was really no point in him getting panicked over a tiny little doodle. A shuffling caught Herbert’s attention, and he ducked down to check under the sofa.

His eyes scanned over the shadowed landscape of the sofa’s underbelly, passing over the tufts of lint and crumbs that managed to find their way under. There were even a few pens and pencils underneath, which Herbert noted to grab afterward. Herbert looked farther back and spotted an odd shape. It was low to the ground, and shifted ever so slightly side-to-side, almost like a crab. With a small triumphant smile, Herbert slid his hand under and made a quick grab for the creature.

His fingers just barely grazed the clammy skin of the one of the fingers, and the experiment bolted, using its appendages to crawl out from under the furniture, looking like it was making a mad dash for the door. Herbert swore under his breath, nearly hitting his head as he quickly rushed to get back on his feet. Once he did, he ran for the door, only to find that the creature as scuttled past it, making its way to a different room, towards the warm light of the kitchen. The creature was deceptively fast as Herbert swiftly moved to catch up with it, which sent him crashing into Ash in the kitchen doorway.

“Hey woah there!” Ash let out a laugh “The food’s not ready just yet.”

Herbert glared up at Ash, feeling his face grow warm again from being so close to the taller man. He stepped back, trying look past Ash to inspect the room inside. A shoulder was blocking his view of the floor, so Herbert could only see the cabinets on the walls and the large pot on the stove.

"So if you're not here for food, what're you-?"

Herbert didn't have time to listen to Ash and simply pushed past him. He kept his eyes to the floor, narrowing his eyes as he inspected every nook and cranny for the creature. Getting down on all fours, he looked underneath the table.

"Alright. So you're looking for something," Ash questioned, and Herbert could hear the man walking up behind him. "Lose anything important?"

"Yes I did," Herbert crawled out from under the kitchen table to stand up.

Ash looked surprised at the blunt response, "Wow, and no sarcasm too. This is pretty serious, huh?"

Herbert rolled his eyes, moving away to check the cabinets. The experiment was made of hands, so it is entirely possible to climb its way inside without too much trouble. He reached up to open the cabinet when he was interrupted by the sound of movement, like a soft metallic scrape.

"Ash, I'm trying to concentrate," Herbert shushed with irritation.

"Why are you accusing me? I didn't do that."

Herbert turned back to retort but found Ash just standing there, both hands at his side and holding nothing. He looked at the sight in bewilderment, trying to find any alternative methods to making a metallic sound like that. He looked to the left, and found only a relatively empty sink. He looked to the right, and saw only the doorway he just walked through moments ago. He heard something metal rattling, and Herbert looking in that direction, right back at Ash.

"What!?" Ash frowned, holding up his still-empty hands "I just told you, it wasn't me!"

The rattling came again, and Herbert slowly widened his eyes in realization. Judging by Ash's matching expression, he was coming to the same conclusion. Slowly, the two turned around to face the stove, staring at the metal pot that rested on top of it with it's metal lid on. Sure enough, after a moment of silence the lid shook a little, making that rattling noise again.

"Hey, maybe..." Ash slowly approached the pot "Maybe it's just the potatoes I put in there. They're supposed to be almost done, anyway."

Herbert rolled his eyes for the other man's desperate attempt at optimism, and took a step forward behind Ash. However, he stood behind him, more than happy to let Ash's bigger and stronger body be a shield if anything were to turn foul. He gently placed his hand in between Ash's shoulder blades, rationalizing his decision by thinking that the action would somehow help ease Ash forward more. His mind wandered ever so briefly, noting the warmth of the other's back, and the tenseness of his muscles. The thoughts were whisked away, however, when Ash leaned forward and away from the hand. Herbert watched as he reached out, grabbed the lid, and quickly lifted it up.

"What the...?" Ash exclaimed, looking down into the pot. Herbert peered around Ash to observe, and found his experiment in the pot, using the potatoes that were floating at the top to keep itself from falling into the scalding water. Ash quickly turned off the stove with a little click.

"Alright..." Ash spoke slowly as he reached for something near the stove "Let me just.... grab the tongs."

Herbert nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on the his reanimated doodle. Ash stood back up straight, a pair of tongs now in hand, and he leaned forward to scoop up from the thing.

"How the hell did it get in there anywa-AUGH!"

Hebert leaped back. He only caught a glimpse of it, but he very clearly saw the hand-creature launch itself from its hiding place in the pot and landing square on Ash's face.

 

l---[-----}--

 

The two men sat next to each other on the floor, breathing heavily and looking out at the aftermath of what transpired only moments ago. The pot was overturned, having spilled hot water and boiled potatoes all over the floor. Bits of mashed potato got on their clothes, which were soaked in some areas from slipping and falling onto the floor. Their scuffle with the creature had caused many of the potatoes to be stepped on, smearing mash potatoes everywhere. Speaking of the creature, there was now a small bloody pile of bones and muscle at the other end of the room. Ash had found the meat tenderizer in the back of the cabinet, beating the thing int a pulp. Herbert was disappointed, but resigned to his experiment's face. In hindsight, he should've saw this outcome coming the moment the thing crawled out of its bin and escaped the lab.

"Well..." Ash finally broke the silence "That could've been worse."

"It could've been better," Herbert grumbled, still lamenting on the loss of his experiment. Though, it was mostly due to the fact that he wanted to have more time observing it before it was destroyed. His frown deepened as he looked down his clothes, picking at the mash potato that clung to his shirt and flinging them away. He glanced up and stopped, realizing that Ash was staring at him. Herbert could feel the heat rising in his cheeks and his heart thumping a little harder.

"Do you need something?"

Ash looked like he was about to say something, but closed his mouth with a little shrug, "Not really, no. Nevermind."

Herbert frowned and went back to picking at his clothes, silently cursing Ash for making him feel that way.

"Actually, there is something."

Herbert didn't look up, "What is it then?"

"You got something on your face."

"What do I have on my face?" Herbert kept his head down, waiting for Ash's response as he continued to pick some food off of his tie. It was when the answer never came that he finally looked up.

"What do I have, Ashley?"

The first thing he felt was a softness against his lips. It was then that Herbert realized that Ash's face was close to his, way too close. His eyes were closed, and Herbert noted that Ash's eyelashes's were surprisingly longer that he expected. Two and two came together, and heat exploded on Herbert's face when he realized that Ash was kissing him.

He raised his hands up to place them on Ash's shoulders, and Ash seemed to take that as a form of encouragement for he leaned more into the kiss. Unfortunately for him, Herbert pushed him away roughly, his eyes wide with shock and his face flushed red.

"What?" Ash asked incredulously "Didn't like it?"

Herbert's stare turned into a glare as he swung his hand to slap Ash. Ash was fast, and turned away to get hit in the shoulder.

"That's for catching me by surprise!" Herbert huffed, feeling his heart pound in his chest.

"Hey, you didn't say that you didn't like it," Ash retorted with a grin. Herbert glared back, his blush renewing on his cheeks. Ash sat back again with an acknowledging nod.

"I've dated enough people to know when someone's interested just by looking at them. Don't think I don't notice how you look at me when I have my back turned."

Herbert opted not to defend himself, knowing full well that would only make his guilt more damning. He turned away and glared at anything he turned his gaze at.

"And the kiss?" He finally asked.

Ash shrugged, "I'm a fan of surprise kisses, a bit of cheer to spice you up when you least expect it."

"Well I'm certainly not!"

Ash held his hands up, "Fine fine, I promise I won't kiss you when you obviously don't want to."

Herbert whipped around to look at Ash, knowing full well what he was implying with his promise. Not that he really minded, he may not openly say it out loud, but those lips were soft. Herbert wouldn't mind having a feel of them again in the future. To his surprise, that thought didn't really agitate him as much as it did down in the basement earlier. While he was thinking of this, Ash slowly leaned in again. Herbert's heart quickened, fully expecting another kiss. Ash's eyes were half-lidded, and Herbert slowly closed his, keeping perfectly still for the other man. But a kiss never came, only a brush against his cheek. Herbert opened his eyes and looked at Ash in bewilderment.

"You did have mash potatoes on your face though," Ash held up his finger to show him before putting the potatoes in his mouth. Herbert watched him do this, feeling the corners of his mouth turn upward. He couldn't stop himself, not that he really wanted to, and he began to start laughing.

He hadn't laughed in a good long while, and it all came out at once. It didn't help that Ash looked at him with such an amusing expression of confusion, making Herbert only laugh harder. Soon enough though, Ash smiled as well, and he joined in with the laugh. The two reached out, holding each other for support as uproarious laughter filled the kitchen, laughing at the absurd world and circumstances that brought them to this moment in time.

“So…” Ash started as the laughter faded into giggles and chuckles, “Dinner’s ruined. How does takeout sound?”

Herbert looked up at Ash, his smile still lingering on his face, “That sounds doable.”

“And clean the kitchen?”

Herbert nodded, pushing himself to his feet and offering a hand to Ash to help him up. As Ash stood up, Herbert paused in thought, watching Ash walk over to the phone.

“Oh Ash…?”

“Hey, you’re finally using that name?” Ash looked back with a smile, only to be yanked down by the front of his shirt, down into kiss. Herbert held him there for a solid moment before letting him go, looking up at him with his normal impassive expression.

“What’s wrong?” Herbert raised an eyebrow “I thought you liked surprise kisses.”

Herbert strode out of the kitchen to reside in his lab until the food came, grinning with satisfaction from the sight of Ash’s expression, a mixture of shock and bewilderment. Ash was definitely good at making that face, much to Herbert’s amusement. When he fully descended the stairs, Herbert stopped and looked up with a small, but happy, smile.

Oh yes, he could definitely get used to this.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this! ^_^ If you have any suggestions on what I should write next, please feel free to let me know. I hope you guys had as much fun reading it as I did writing it!
> 
> You can also find me on Tumblr at plaguedoctor31


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